


Torsion

by CoralFlowerDaylight (CoralFlower)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Autistic Deceit Sanders, Autistic Logic | Logan Sanders, Gen, Logic | Logan Sanders is a Dark Side, Morally Neutral Logic | Logan Sanders, POV Logic | Logan Sanders, POV Second Person, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Touch-Averse Logic | Logan Sanders, Unsympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23287666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoralFlower/pseuds/CoralFlowerDaylight
Summary: "I do not have a name. I do not want one. Just call me Logic."Remus pouts."So I can't call you Professor Porno, then?"Deceit's face meets his gloved hands at terminal velocity.
Comments: 21
Kudos: 181





	Torsion

**Author's Note:**

> uhh
> 
> yeah.
> 
> this is kinda dark. that archive warning is there for a reason.

"Hey, Logan!"

You have barely a moment to tense up before his arm drops around your shoulders.

"Patton, we've talked about this," you say quietly, barely a mumble, and he ignores you, pulling you into a hug, warm and squeezy and suffocating. It sends awful, screeching shivers through your spine and all across your body. You struggle away from him, trying to escape his grip, but he follows, shifting where he holds onto you and making himself impossible to fight.

You make a sound, and Patton freezes. You're shocked too, but you take advantage of his surprise to finally, finally pull away. You wrap your arms around yourself, vigourously rubbing your skin where Patton touched you to try and make the itching pain go away, and then another sob escapes from your mouth. You blink, and tears run down your face.

"Don't _touch_ me," you say, cringing away when Patton reaches out. You slap at his hand and then pull yours back lightning-quick to rub it on your shirt. Ouch. Ouch ouch awful. "I always say it and you always do it anyway, I _hate_ you."

Patton rears back like he's been burned, and then a frown appears on his face and your heart jumps up in your throat as he advances towards you.

"I'm trying to _help_ you!"

His tone is scolding.

"You're awful," you say, and the panic in your voice is audible. "You're awful, you're awful, you're awful, I'll never-- it's not-- you're just _awful_."

You've been backing away, but he catches up anyway. This time, when he touches you, something changes.

It's not conscious. It's not intentional. But this time, when he touches you, you cannot feel it.

You cannot feel anything. You lift your hand and place it squarely in the center of Patton's chest, and still there is nothing. Your fingers are silver and shiny, and jointed like a robot. You give Patton a gentle shove, and he stumbles back, tripping over his own feet to land several feet away on the floor. Oh. Oh, oops. Perhaps you weren't very gentle after all. 

"Woah," Patton says, eyes wide. You are suddenly calm. You straighten your tie, and push up your glasses. When you speak, your voice is different.

"You have not been listening."

He is on the floor. Your voice sounds tinny, like it's made by a machine.

"Logan--"

"Logic," you say. "I am Logic. You do not get to name me. I should not have let you name me."

"But-- but you-- Logan, we've _talked_ about this."

You look at your hands. Metal. Your arms are metal.

"You will call me Logic, Patton, or you will not speak to me at all. Goodbye."

You turn, and walk away.

"Logan-- Logan, wait!"

He touches you. You know because you see it, and even if you cannot feel it anymore, you still cannot allow it. You grab his wrist and wrench his hand off of you, looking at his soft, fragile skin and wondering whether you can shut your hand with enough force to break something. Patton is already crying out. You could hurt him. You could mess him up, you could do it.

"Logan, that _hurts._ "

"I feel no pain," you tell him, tightening your grip and watching him carefully to see what it does to him. "I am trying to help you. I feel no pain, and therefore, you are wrong. This is not bad. This is not harmful."

He whimpers, and his other hand comes up to claw at your fingers. Useless. He isn't strong enough.

"Logan _please_ \--"

"Do you understand what I am saying, Patton?" you say. "Do you understand? I am different from you. We are _different._ Every time you touched me it hurt."

"But--"

You squeeze harder and his face crumples, lip trembling. He tries to speak and mangles the words, bloody saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth. He must have bit his tongue.

"I will no longer be staying with you and the others," you tell him. "Call me Logan again and I will never let go. Promise to stop and I will."

"But Lo--" he says it with a long o, like the start of that name he slapped on you, and you shift your grip to allow room for your other hand to grip his forearm, ready to snap. Patton gulps. "Logic. You don't know what you're doing."

"The dark sides could use a hand, Patton," you tell him, wrenching his arm into a better position, so you'll be able to get more leverage. "Will you promise?"

"Okay," Patton says, tears streaming down his face. "I promise, Logan, I promise."

Your grip tightens, and you start to exert force on his wrist, intending to make it slow, painful.

"Logic."

Behind you.

You look over your shoulder. Deceit.

"Hello, Deceit," you say. Deceit has a strange look on his face as he approaches.

"Can I ask what you are doing?"

"Of course you can," you tell him, turning back to Patton, who is whimpering and sobbing on his knees.

"What are you doing?"

"He's--"

Patton is talking.

"You do not get to talk," you remind him, and he shuts right up. "I am not a he. I am an it."

"Logic," Deceit says again, voice soft. "What are you doing?"

"Patton touched me," you tell him. When you look at Deceit, he looks afraid. "I told him that I would let go of his wrist if he promised to stop calling me Logan. He called me Logan again. Therefore, I will be taking his hand."

Patton sobs, and you wait for Deceit to respond. He doesn't seem to have anything to say, so you turn back to Patton.

You may not get to do it slow anymore. If the others find you... Roman would not understand why you have to do this. Oh, well. Quick it is, then.

"Wait," says Deceit, and you turn back to him, a little annoyed now to be interrupted twice. He looks terrified and hesitant.

"What is it, Deceit," you ask him. He takes a deep breath, and slowly extends his hand from where it was hidden under his cape. He looks you in the eye.

"Thomas needs Patton," he tells you sternly. There is fear in his voice. You blink at him.

"If that's all--"

"Take my hand," he interrupts, something desperate in his voice. He's breathing quickly. You frown, and turn back to Patton, who looks gobsmacked. You kneel down to study his face.

"You will never touch anyone again," you tell him, and as you say it, you know it is true. "You will not tell them why. You will never speak about it. You will wait for others to touch you."

Patton sobs, and you let go of his wrist, but keep holding onto his forearm.

"Logic," Deceit whispers, very quiet now, but you aren't finished.

"You deserve worse," you tell Patton. "You deserve to have every vertebra in your spinal column electrified simultaneously. You deserve to feel what I felt every time you touched me."

"Logic," Deceit murmurs, quieter and quieter.

"You will never say the name you chose for me again," you say. "You will never use those pronouns for me again. You will not make excuses to the others, or lie to them about why I left."

Silence. You let go of Patton's forearm and stand, turning to look at Deceit, who takes a step back.

"What?" you ask him. He's looking at Patton. "What is it?"

He flinches. It is like looking at yourself.

"I have frightened you," you say, ignoring Patton's choked sobs. "I am sorry. I will not hurt you, Deceit."

Deceit gets a dubious look on his face, but he takes a deep breath, looks you in the eye, and shrugs.

"Is it alright if I join you and Remus?"

Deceit nods, and offers you his hand. You wonder why he isn't speaking, but you do not ask. It is not your business, and you are not Patton. You take his hand, but only because he is wearing gloves.

And the two of you sink out together.

* * *

"Wow, a robot!" Remus shrieks. He sounds delighted. "Is it for me, Dee?"

You turn to face the source of the voice, and you can tell when he recognises you, because he gets even more excited.

"Woah!!! The robot is Logic? That's so cool! I love your new shell, Logan!"

You take a step towards Remus, and suddenly Deceit is in front of him, standing between you and Remus with a determined look on his face. He's so short, it would make you laugh if you were still using a human form. You could brush him aside so easily.

"What is it?" Remus says. "Was it something I said? Deceit, calm down, it's just Logan--"

"Don't call me that," you say, and Remus's eyes flick up to you immediately. He holds the same pose for a moment, and then bursts into motion again, a flurry of gestures.

"What? I was calling him Deceit, not you. You're Logic."

"Correct," you say. "I do not have a name. I do not want one. Just call me Logic."

Remus pouts, and your fists open, ready to reach past Deceit and grab, and _break_ , but Remus just says,

"So I can't call you Professor Porno, then?"

Deceit's face meets his gloved hands at terminal velocity.

"What," you say.

"You know, because you look like you could be a whole porno all by yourself, Logic! Sorry about the mixup, by the way, only you look so much like Wolverine it's hard to remember you don't actually have a name!"

You blink, caught off guard, and then nod.

"Alright. Thank you, Remus."

Deceit's shoulders slump in relief.

"No problem!" he says. "Now it's my turn to pick your bones, Logic! Why isn't Deceit talking?"

Remus's voice is cold now.

"I do not have bones," you tell him, and he narrows his eyes and points a fork at you.

"Answer the question, Logic."

"I do not know," you say. "He just stopped. Perhaps you could ask him."

Deceit sighs, and puts a hand on Remus's shoulder. Remus grumbles, but points off behind him and says,

"Your room's over there. Do whatever. Bye. I'll be busy making sure Deceit is okay."

He stalks off, and Deceit follows behind him.

You push up your glasses and straighten your tie. Maybe you are safe now. Maybe here, no one will touch you.

* * *

Patton puts a hand over his heart. Still beating. His wrist is throbbing, and for a moment he was terrified, regretting his entire plan, but the risk paid off. He wipes his tears away and smiles. And he stands, walking into the kitchen to get some ice for his wrist.

Later, when Roman comes in and stops short when he sees Patton, and asks what's wrong, Patton will open his arms for a hug. And Roman will oblige him, and ask what happened, and Patton will let his voice shake as he says,

"It-- it-- Logic."

Roman will ask for more details, and Patton will shake his head and start crying, and everything will go his way. And no one will listen to you now, because no one listens to dark sides.

It worked. Patton almost lost a hand for it, but it worked.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are rad. you know you have time, youre in social isolation.


End file.
